Love knows no bounds
by imaginationforthewin
Summary: Fred has avoided George all summer, doesn't like it, but doesn't have a choice. Not with what he's been feeling. As they return to Hogwarts after a miserable summer, people notice. George, concerned, is desperate to pull Fred from that dark, lonely place of selfmade isolation. But, will he still try and get his twin back when he finds the reason why Fred went there? Slash/Twincest!


**Author's note: This isn't as organised as I'd like, but it did start off just as me writing because I was bored. It was only when I got to the end, I thought I would turn this into the story, so for apologies for spelling mistakes etc. **

**Warning: This is slash, incest, twincest... don't like? Don't read, simple really.**

**Disclaimer: Unfortunately I own nada. When it comes to Harry Potter anyway. All the characters and wonderful things like chocolate frogs belong to JK Rowling.**

**Anyways, hope you enjoy. If you do, review, it will be much appriciated. if you don't, review anyway and vent your anger, I don't mind, I like to know where I've gone wrong withi things. And, it sucks when people get frustrated about something but can't say for fear of hurting feelings. Say away, I'd rather get told what I've written is a pile of shite and improve than be stuck with it.**

**So, anyways, I'm going to shut up now. Byebye!**

Chapter One: Half missing

"So whats with the two of you?" Harry asked Fred, sitting beside him in the empty living room. Fred was a little surprised, he and Harry were friends, but Harry was just closer to George. Fred always appeared the fearless, brave one, the on who would cross the line just to cross it, who just didn't care about the line even being there. That's the way he seemed to everyone. George basked in Fred's boldness, but also kept him in check. Fred knew that George was his reminder, not to go too far. Fred would, but George never did, which made Fred never do too. And it wasn't that Harry didn't got on with Fred, on the contrary, whenever he himself was up to mischeviousness, Fred was the first, or maybe second if it included Ron, to hear. But when it came to serious issues, problems, worries emotions, Harry went to George. George always related better to people. He was diplomatic, aware of how people felt, and careful not to hurt them. Fred, couldn't be bothered with that. What was the point in pretending to understand people if you didn't? Like his little brother and Hermione for instance. Why the hell were they just dancing about one another? It was painfully obvious they were in love, and yet they were resound to proceed with this little masquerade that the only reason they tolerated each other, the only reason they considered one another friends was because they had a mutual best friend. Fred just didn't get why Hermione hadn't grown some balls yet. Everyone close to Ron knew he was a complete coward and she would be the one to take the first step, so why the bloody hell hadn't she? It was fucking infuriating to watch his little brother moan and whine, and yes be miserable. Not that Fred would ever admit to Ronniekins he cared so much. If he was Hermione he would have done something by now. And the way Fred felt… well had reasons for not acting on his feelings. Like, he shouldn't be having them… at all…

"Earth to Fred?" Harry clicked his fingers.

"Huh?" It made Harry smile, he thought about how George had described Fred. Fred doesn't fit into the world, the world has to fit into Fred. And sometimes he doesn't want it to fit into him. That's why he zones out a lot, he's in Fred world…

"George. He's not quite himself." Harry began tenderly, he had suspicions, but knew himself he couldn't understand how complicated things were until Fred told him.

"Is he ok? Is he hurt?" Fred half stood up, panicking.

"HE's fine. HE just seems lonely." Harry pushed Fred back down onto the sofa, and phrased his words carefully. What he really meant was, _Your being distant with him. Why?_

"Oh." Fred swallowed a lump in his throat. He couldn't stand to be causing his brother discomfort, but right now he needed to be alone. Never, in his life did he think he would think that, but at the moment that's all he wanted. Or rather that's not what he wanted, but its what was best.

"He's got you." Fred said, not being tactful and letting slip the jealousy he felt whenever he saw Harry and George talking at breakfast or walking to Quidditch practise together.

"Yeah George has been helping me a lot. So, I thought I might repay the favour. That, and you look depressed." Fred snorted, he was Fred Weasely. And Fed Weasely was never depressed, at least not in public. Fred problem was he couldn't just feel. He felt to the extreme. When he was happy he wasn't just happy, he was high on pure heaven air, delighted in the intoxication of life. And if he was feeling down, he wasn't just feeling down, he was sinking into a world of despair where hope and happiness seemed not exist, like his pale skin and shiny red hair reflected them back into the real world without ever giving him so much as a whisper.

"Potter…"

"Enough said." Fred looked up confused, Harry was smiling, standing down. He put his jumper on and left. Just by that, Harry had gathered Fred didn't want to talk, that he was isolating himself by distancing Harry. And Harry understood all that from just the word Potter. The door to the burrow closed behind him and Fred was left in his home by himself. Everyone was camping in the near by field, just as a fun thing before school started again. Fred ahd been up for it, thinking that in a large crowd, that surrounded by family and friends that had become extended family, he couldn't think those things, feel those things. Look at _him_ in that way. But not even the company of his loved ones, not even the fear of being found out had stopped him from gazing, from yearning. So he'd gone from terribly and hyperly excited toutterly and completely miserable in the five minutes. In the five minutes it took him to realise that other people were not nearly as big a distraction as he hoped. In the five minutes when he realised the brilliant red he was staring at was not the fire but _him. _ And the worst part of it was… if it wasn't George, the guy would be sprawled out on the sofa next to him right now, listening. If it wasn't George, he'd be giving advice and comforting and reassuring him. If it wasn't George… George wouldn't have a reason to hate him.

Everyone had noticed the awkwardness between Fred and George, or rather the awkwardness Fred was making. It began with smiple things, like Fred would stay in bed until he was sure George was eating breakfast, or he'd wait to go to bed really late or go really early, purposefully not at the same time as his twin. He was out everyday, walking in the fields and woods, avoiding. But at night he couldn't. Because even with these new-realised feelings, George was still George and Fred couldn't be without him. Heavens knows he'd tried. But he just lay restlessy awake or toss and turn. It was only when George, becoming irritated by his disturbed slumber, crawled into Fred's bed that Fred could fall asleep. That was the one constant that hadn't changed. Even though Fred ran from George liked he was the plague during the day, at night, George kept their tradition. It used be Fred sneaking into George's bed. But over the summer… Fred had been afraid to. Because he now knew the reason why he wanted to be in George's bed. So, being the actual scardy-cat he was, George had gotten in his.

George had been, brilliant in all of this, of course. He was confused by his brother's behaviour, and like their family, didn't understand what was going on, but he also knew Fred couldn't explain it to anyone. He knew Fred, and how Fred was shying away from everyone. So he played the front, filled the role of what his mother suspected, that they had fallen out, had some huge argument and either was too stubborn to apologise. But Fred could tell George was hurt by his weird behaviour. Fred often shut out his family, despite his openly and friendly mannerisms, he was a very private person. Its just… George had always been on Fred's side during these episodes, he'd always known why and been the one who his brother was with when he wanted to be alone, it didn't matter how much on his own Fed wanted to be, he always wanted George to be there with him, he could never be entirely alone. Until now. And George didn't understand why that was.

Fred heard voices, coming to collect more food and drink he guessed, and so jumped over the sofa and silently scurried upstairs. After the first five minutes of Charlie lighting the bonfire, Fred had spiralled into one of his downs, and made the feeble excuse he wasn't well. He had been staring at George, and the way George had been close to Harry, standing between him and everyone else, talking to him so nobody else would. He saw the light in George's eyes, the light that only came after they had pulled a prank, or they had done something good. That was their light, and now he was sharing it with someone else. That had been too much for Fred and all at once he muttered something to his mother about feeling like he was a block of ice and swiftly made his way through the party, and hurried through the field, his father shouting he was fed up with Fred's attitude. Fred tried to find comfort in his room. He lay down on his bed, cover pulled over his head and tried to go off into his own world. He wasn't sure how long it was before the door opened and he felt a weight sit on his bed. He didn't know it was, but he knew who its wasn't. George wasn't that heavy.

"Everything all right Freddie?" Fred heard his big brother's voice. Charlie. Charlie ahd always been the one person besides George to calm down. Fred didn't trust anyone completely except George, and Charlie was second on that list. Charlie always calmed down their mother when they were little, defending Fred. Because fred, when they were little, used to be the on to take charge, he usually got the blame too. And that was fair enough. But Charlie always protected him. Fred mumbled a yes, but he'd never been able to lie to Charlie very well. Even as he said it, he felt his throat tighten and eyes burn with unshed tears.

"Come here." Charlie shifted up the bed, half lifting Fred off, before placing his head on his lap. Charlie stroked his hair as Fred's tears finally let loose. When they were little, fed never let George see him cry, because it scared him. But when Charlie realised Fred done it a lot more than anyone realised, he'd always go looking for him, and find him without fail. And he's scoop him up and Fed could cry freely, curled up in his lap as Charlie played with his hair. They hadn't done this ritual for years though. Charlie left, and Fred never really forgave him.

To Fred, Charlie was abandoning him. Only Charlie understood the depression the twin felt, because he had felt it too, only once though. Whenever Charlie did come back from Romania, or wherever he was, Fred always kept his distance. George acted as his barrier, and made sure Fred was never alone when Charlie was home. And that's how Charlie knew it was serious. Fred was too stubborn for his own good, and he'd never do this, not unless he really needed it. And clearly he did, Charlie thought, as he ran his fingers through Fred's hair as he felt the boy's unresponsive, limp body.

He had only seen Fed this upset once. After he and George had had a massive row, just before Charlie left. It was the only time the twins had ever properly fallen out. But it had happened the summer before they started school. And they didn't speak the whole summer. As Charlie went to find Fed after George had given the twin the silent treatment yet again, he'd found Fred. With red pouring down his arm. The blood was red, but it was so much more dark and dangerous than the boy's fluffly red hair, as it dripped onto the floor, staining the roots of a tree. Charlie had healed the cuts with magic. He had then slapped Fred, shook his shoulders and ordered him never to do it again. Fred, like waking up from a daze, looked confused and scared and vulnerable. HE begged Charlie not to tell, and Charlie never had.

Then the twins were sent to Hogwarts, and Charlie had been offered a job beyond his wildest dreams. He almost didn't go. Fred needed him. But he was so fed up with his parents. His mother constantly pushing him to take up Quidditch professionally, his dad onto him about not having a girlfriend. Their hearts were in the right places, but what really cut Charlie, was that that was what they thought he wanted, they really didn't know him at all. So, he'd accepted. He never dreamed he would loose his twin brothers, who he was closest to.

HE knew Fed needed him, and if he hadn't ben selfish, he would have stayed. But he made the excuse Fred was ok, happy at school and with George. He never thought it would affect Fred as much as it did, and because he had hurt Fred, even though it wasn't intended, George had lost respect for him knew he was to blame for Fred's trust issues. Fred had never really trusted, of course George didn't count, anyone since Charlie's betrayal. And Charlie loved the twins so much. He was devastated at first, when George wrote about how Fed was feeling, and his own writing showed hostitly. But as the treatment never lessened, he'd become angry too. He was finally out, away. Doing what he'd always wanted to do, the twins should be happy for him. And then as he reflected, they would have ben. If Charlie had gone when Fred wasn't depending on him. Nobody knew but Charlie, not even George, and he'd left his brother in that state. Ever since he'd been trying to redeem himself. And it had never worked.

"Tell me about Romania." Fed whispered, voice hoarse.

"There's this gypsy lady who…"

"I don't want to hear about Romanians. I want to hear abour Romania." HE empahised the ending. Charlie smiled briefly.

"The mountains are just.. magnificient. They make all humans, muggles and magical alike look insignificant. They're so powerful and tall and strong, yet so silent. The deep purple base shoots up, and so rich and pure in colour its like they have a right to pierce up through the sky. And on them, well that's incredible too. Hardly any people there, you'd love it. There are small tribes scattered out, and whole forests that have grown on the face. But what's even more amazing, mysterious, is underneath the mountains…"

"Underneath?" Fred listened to the words, picturing them in his head. He fidgeted, grasping around for a cover, which Charlie absently put over his body. They were both greatful for the absent hostitlity and anger that usually surrounded them, it had become constant but never felt normal, it was nice, being peaceful like this.

"Yeah. They're so obvious and big, everyone looks up at them, but nobody pays much attention where they come from. A lot of them, especially the ones on the edge of the clusters, are just pure rock. But the ones in the centre are hollow for the most part, and underneath is an empty space where the rock should be. Its so warm down there, closer to the earth's core. Its like a whole other world, diamonds and crystals grow from the walls of the cave, there are hot springs. Natural light finds its way in, but not harsh and bright like outside. It's the perfect place for…"

"Dragons?" Fred finished.

"Yeah. But don't tell anyone, not many people know about the underground caves they created, let alone that it's the largest inhabitance of dragons known."

"So why are you there then?"

"They don't mind. They understand that me and my team aren't there to hurt them. That we're trying to help, protect them. Everyone thinks that they're just big dumb brutes, but they're not. They're creatures that are full of magic and can harness it, just like us. They are intelligent then other creatures. Can I trust you with a secret?" Charlie asked, suddenly hesitant.

"Yes." Fred said after pausing, and thinking.

"They have their own language. Its just as complicated and structured as ours, or any human language. I've only seen a glimpse at their true way of living, I've been fortunate they trust me with such information. I'm hoping to see their real lives. It'll time though, they're very suspicious of humans. Of course I won't publish any of it or reveal anything, but I just…"

"Want to know." Fred finished. Charlie nodded. Fred felt better, his tears had dried and Charlie's passion and work had distracted him. They were about to relapse into a comfortable silence when they heard a throat being cleared. Charlie jumped and turned to look, but Fred just kept his eyes closed.

"How long have you been standing there?"

"Since he asked about the place, not the people. Dad sent me to look for you. Mum was worried, its not like you to miss a good fire." As soon as George had spoken Fred had tensed, and Charlie had discreetly places firm hand on his shoulder, squeezing it, to let him know it was ok.

"Cheers George, I'll be down in a minute." Charlie smiled, but it was strained. HE could see the confusion and pain in the twin's eyes as George stared at Fred, who still had his eyes closed and hadn't moved. George sent Charlie a glare, and Charlie understood it, George wanted him to leave. But he couldn't bring himself to leave Fred like that. He lifted Fred's head off his lap and then placed it gently back on the bed before kneeling down in front of him.

"Fred."

"Freddie?" He said, voice softer. Fred's eyes opened to stare at his big brother. They shared a silent conversation, completed by just the expressions they were exchanging.

"Ok?" Charlie regretted it the instant the question slipped out. Of course Fred wasn't ok. He kissed Fred's forehead and then left.

Fred would have gone with him, he had been avoiding being alone with George all summer, but he didn't want to move. He wished he was the mountain like Charlie described, still. Alive but frozen. George walked into the room, ignoring him. Fred gussed he deserved it, but it still hurt. His twin flopped onto his own bed, against the opposite wall. Their room was small, but they had never minded, they had always liked the cosyness. If they spread their arms out while lying on their beds, they could grasp one another by the elbow. It was comforting, that closeness, even though they always did manage up beside one another anyway. George flicked through a magazine, stealing glances at Fred.

"What was that about with you and Charlie?" He asked, voice pissed off. His expression changed to worry and he tried desperately to hide his fear, like when he saw Fed and Charlie together like they used to be, how Fed was just lying there. When the other boy didn't answer, George climbed off his bed and crawled along the floor, resting his chin on the bed, eyes staring into his twins.

"Freddie, come back to me please." He whispered, eyes watery. That had always worked before. Fred stared, watery eyes mirroring his borther's. And thenhe rolled over slowly, facing the wall. George left out a sniff, trying not to cry as he stood. But, as he turned to walk away, Fred's arm, almost involountairly, shot out behind him, grabbing George's arm. George didn't climb onto the bed instantly, like he would have done five weeks ago. He stood and debated in his head. In the end, the need to feel normal around his brother, the need to feel needed by his brother, and to make him happy, outweighed the rejectedness and anger that had been brewing over the summer. So he lay on Fred's bed, and pressed his back against his twin's.

"Freddie please come back to me."

"I'm trying."

"I know." They whispered, and George swore his brother was crying, he tried to go to sleep, not letting his brother's distance and coldness worm its way into his dreams. He was unsuccessful, even in the mind where anything was possible, he felt the isolation, the void where his brother should be but wasn't.


End file.
